


For Richer, For Poorer

by itswheremydemonshide10



Series: Robert Week 2017 [7]
Category: Emmerdale, Roblivion - Fandom, robron
Genre: Angst, Day 7, Gen, Homelessness, M/M, Poverty, Prostitution, Robert Week 2017
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-10
Updated: 2017-09-10
Packaged: 2018-12-23 01:00:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11978784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/itswheremydemonshide10/pseuds/itswheremydemonshide10
Summary: Everyone is always so quick to point out that Robert is materialistic. He flashes the cash, and likes the luxurious things in life. No one ever thinks to ask why. Or, my take on the infamous missing 10 years.





	For Richer, For Poorer

**Author's Note:**

> Robert Week 2017: Day 7 - Write a scene, from a storyline, you wish would be given to Robert

Robert had been determined that tonight would be perfect. He’d booked the fancy restaurant weeks in advance, carefully coordinated schedules so that everyone could make it, and even phoned ahead to make sure that the restaurant would have some champagne on ice ready for their arrival – the good stuff of course.

But now as Aaron pulls the car into the car park, he feels oddly nervous, tugging at the stiff collar of his new shirt to straighten it for the third time.

“Stop fussing.” Aaron tells him, without taking his eyes off the space he’s turning in to. “I don’t know why you’re stressing, it’s just our families, there was no need to go all out.”

“Robert? Going over the top? Shocker.” Liv mutters from the back seat, still grumpy about Robert not letting her wear trainers with her dress.

“This is important! This is our pre-wedding dinner.” Robert says to Aaron, knowing better than to respond to Liv’s jibe.

“Well firstly, we’re already married-“ Aaron begins, pulling on the handbrake.

“Not officially.” Robert interjects, but Aaron ploughs on.

“…and secondly, what’s important is having the people we love around us, not posh menus and champagne.”

“I know.” Robert sighs. “It’s just… we never got to do all of this properly the first time. I want it to be special.”

“It already is.” Aaron reassures him with a soft smile, before leaning across to peck Robert on the lips. It’s the sound of the car door opening and exaggerated retching noises that reminds them that they’re not alone.

\--

Aaron had been right, there was no need to worry. The restaurant is great, the food delicious, and the atmosphere is as light and bubbly as the alcohol.

Chas and Diane are busy gossiping about wedding outfits at the end of table, Liv is cheered up by the fact that Bernice has brought Gabby with her, and even Paddy has cracked a smile.

Robert knows he should be thrilled that everything has come together exactly as he wanted it to. But there’s a lump in his throat, and he can’t stop his eyes straying over to the window every few minutes, towards the man in the black beanie outside.

Robert had first spotted him as they approached the restaurant. He’s young, probably no older than 20, but his drawn, dirty face makes him look far too world-weary. The man is blatantly homeless, curled up the doorway of the currently closed furniture shop opposite the restaurant, his only possessions seemingly a grubby brown winter coat, and a threadbare sleeping bag that he’s wrapped around him in a poor attempt at keeping the frigid wind out.

Robert has felt on edge ever since, zoning out of the conversations going on around him, the steak and champagne tasting bitter on his tongue. All of this, the expensive restaurant, his new suit, his insistence on them having the best of everything, now leaves a cold, guilty weight in his chest.

He feels like a fraud.

“Hey, you ok?” Aaron whispers from beside him, his hand coming to rest on Robert’s knee, and his voice concerned.

The truth is he’s not. He looks back to the window, and the cold, beaten-down young man, and all he can see is himself, or rather the person he has been at that age. A lost and frightened young lad, cast away from his family, his home, and everything he had ever known.

Robert can’t ignore the memories anymore, as he remembers arriving in the city full of anger, naivety, and stupidity. He remembers the nights spent drinking himself stupid on the money his father gave him, purely out of spite. He remembers throwing the rest of the money away on worthless investments, his childish arrogance clouding his better judgement. He can recall the first time his savings got so low he couldn’t pay his rent, the day his landlord finally got fed up of his excuses and threw him out, the nights spent in dirty, run-down hostels.

His first night on the street is a memory he’d locked away in some deep, dark area of his mind. It’s been a long time since he’s allowed himself to think of the nights crying from the cold, his stomach cramping with hunger, his terror at his own vulnerability.

Even worse were the times when he got desperate enough to wait on the corner of the dodgiest streets in town, terrified and starving enough that he was willing to do anything for just a little bit of money. On those streets, there was never a shortage of disgusting old men willing to take advantage of a vulnerable, pretty young boy for a few pounds.

Robert’s not entirely sure how he pushes down the urge to rush to the toilet and throw up, but somehow he manages a weak imitation of a smile.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

\--

Robert’s relieved when everyone starts making a move to leave, quickly excusing himself from the table to go up to the counter and pay the bill. He tries not to feel disgusted at himself for the excessive amount of money he’s blown on the evening.

Things had gotten better of course. He had eventually managed to find himself a job stacking shelves overnight in a supermarket, which had been a stroke of luck. The manager who interviewed him was new and out of her depth, so she’d forgotten to ask him for his home address, never realising that he didn’t have one. He’d managed to get a roof over his head again, worked his way up through hard graft and charm, first progressing to the business department, then being promoted to head office. It was not long after his promotion that he met the White family at a conference, and before he knew it he had been whisked into a world of wealth, luxury and excess, resolving to never look back at his past out of shame.

“Thank you Sir! Is that everything?” The cheerful waitress asks, retuning his credit card and breaking him out of his thoughts.

“No, thank you… wait, actually there is something”

\--

Robert and Aaron’s combined families share their goodbyes on the pavement outside the restaurant, everyone going their separate ways. Aaron slips his hand into Robert’s as they start to walk towards the car, Liv already yards ahead, moaning that it’s too cold to stand around.

Robert is glad that the young man is still in the doorway, as he pulls his hand free.

“Give me a second, I’ll be right back.” He tells Aaron, before dashing across the quiet street.

He can feel Aaron’s eyes on him as he walks up to the man, and hands him the bag the waitress had put together for him, full of their leftovers, a take-away cup full of hot tea, and the last of the cash from his pocket. He waves off the young man’s stuttered thanks and tries not to dwell on how his eyes fill with grateful tears.

“Later.” He tells Aaron as he strides back over to his side, and Aaron must see the emotion in his face because he just nods.

Robert knows that Aaron will want an explanation, and he knows he’ll give it to him. After everything they had been through together, they’d agreed on no more lies. He doesn’t enjoy the thought of talking about the worst parts of his past, but he thinks it’s time to open that particular can of worms.

The gentle, affectionate look in Aaron’s eyes at least gives him the strength to try.

“Oi! Get a move on!” Liv yells from the entrance to the car park, her face illuminated by the screen of her phone, and they both hurry to catch her up.


End file.
